god damn woman. you are like the herpes of drunk texting. you never go away.
No, when he said that he wished he had my eyebrows, THATS when I knew he was gay.
the majority of my texts from you are at 3 AM & consist of either "I'm drunk", "you're asian", or "bratwurst"
he sounded really stupid. it was like his puke had a stutter, too.
I spent an hour trying to convert bar outfits to church outfits. Its hard.
I just dropped macaroni right down my cleavage. For the sake of our future, I'm really banking on this being a turn on for you.
I'm pretty sure we got the cab driver deported
At least he's enough of a gentleman to not make me do the walk of shame dressed as Santa.
There's puke on my pillow. I'm still wearing my wedges. And I have a cab drivers number clutched in my fist.
After he came, I wiped my mouth on my baby blanket. I could feel nana rolling over in her grave.
I took your mattress from your bed. Don't ask questions. Love you. See ya later.
And literally 4loko margaritas are callin my name. They're like "Hey girl come on over here I'll make you forget about grades and boys and it'll be a good idea to send everyone 55 snapchats of your cleavage" ok
He peed my bed and tried to say it was just the wine. The red wine. On white sheets. He's not a good liar.
Cancelling your gym membership calls for alcohol.
That awkward moment when you hear your boss yelling during sex while you're on her couch eating Easy Mac.
Randomize
